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had a bald spot on the side of his head—but ultimately I could not do it. I was already defacing something beautiful, cutting off the thing that bound us together, and couldn’t possibly mar him even more.
    When I was done, I looked at him in the mirror. Gone was the boy that I had once known. In his place was a clean-cut young man, ready to take on academia and the world, and it finally sank in that he was leaving me. He would never again live only two houses away, never again come over to hang out and play video games.
    My heart had broken ten times over that day.
    But now that same boy was in my arms, telling me that he was in love with me, which left me confused as hell. I used to think I could read his every thought, but his confession blindsided me, made me wonder if I knew him at all.
    â€œI didn’t know . . .” I began. “I thought this was just sex.”
    He jerked back as if I’d pressed a hot poker to his chest. “In all the time that you’ve lived here, how many times have you seen me
just have sex
with a woman?”
    I shrugged, thinking back to all the women that had accompanied Henry to our home. He had had two girlfriends since I’d lived here, and both of them lasted at least a few months—definitely longer than a one-night stand. “None,” I said in a tiny voice.
    I felt hollow when he pulled out of me and pulled up his camo pants, as if he could somehow take back all of the pleasure he’d given me only a few minutes earlier. I shook my head, wondering how the hell things had gotten derailed so quickly. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go.”
    He gave me a disquieted look that told me he hadn’t expected this ending either, but like a gentleman, he helped me down from the counter and straightened my clothes. “Well,” he began, trying for a lighter tone, “thanks for the good sex. I’ll eat the ribs later.”
    If he was trying to wound me, he had succeeded. With an aching chest, I watched him grab his keys from the hook and leave.

5
    UNDER RUBBLE
    During my senior year in high school, Henry came home for the Christmas holidays a few days earlier than Jason. The last time I’d seen Henry had been nearly a year before, and if I thought I looked grown up, Henry had me beat. I had driven home from school when I saw this person standing on my porch with his hands in his jacket pockets, looking awfully familiar but too grown-up to be the boy I knew.
    I parked in the driveway and ran up to him, forgetting myself for a moment as I launched myself into his arms. “Henry!” I cried, wrapping my arms around his neck. “When did you get here?”
    He laughed and set me down. “Just an hour ago.” He held me at arm’s length, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. He touched my hair, which I wore shorter now that the curls had relaxed a little. “You look so different.”
    â€œWell you . . .” I looked up at him, searching for the words. He was already tall, but over the past year, he’d filled out a little and had actual beard stubble. I rubbed his jaw and laughed, tickled by the sensation and the guy before me.
    â€œElsie . . .”
    We both turned at the voice, and I remembered with a start that I had a passenger in my car that day. I pulled away from Henry as if I’d been caught doing something indecent and turned to Zach, my new boyfriend.
    â€œHey, Zach,” I said in my most casual tone. “This is Henry, my brother’s best friend.”
    I turned back to Henry and was taken aback by the look on his face, a confounding mixture of betrayal and disappointment. The expression dissolved into a cordial smile a moment later, and I never saw that look again. Until today.
----
    Henry hadn’t made it home by the time I went to bed. I checked my cell phone several times, sure that he would have texted me by now, even if to